Starlance

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Jarek was relieved to hear the order to leave and he subconsciously urged Nikolaj to walk faster. The sooner and further away they got from the enormous heap of explosives, stored in even worse fashion than his textbooks in high school, as difficult as that was to achieve, the better.

Walking out, it felt like a different city. The sun was a bit higher, of course, but the strangest thing was the sudden silence. They rushed in with bullets bouncing off the transport and the .50 barking back at the numerous skinnies, but now they could almost march down the street, undisturbed. Nikolaj found some ruins down the street and decided to confiscate them. Four walls and a flat roof made of questionable materials. The Dutch had the same idea and Jarek hurried to find solid cover before everything was taken. Now that the action has subsided and his brain slowed down, the adrenaline started to wear off and fatigue and hunger started to set in. Covering his face with his shemagh and adjusting his goggles, he crouched behind one of the walls and observed the commotion in the building, waiting for the grand finale. He couldn’t help it, but he hoped a few skinnies would get into that building right before the detonation.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

I'm also away for the holidays, namely 25th - 28th. I might be able to post, but no promises.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

I also noticed the Czech animosity toward the Russians.

@Rain

Czechs aren't too keen on the people that pointed guns at them and told them they're their saviors. No offense :)

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

They moved through the desolate structure, occasional muffled gunshots and other sounds of battle penetrating his consciousness. Even the air seemed hostile, as if trying to suffocate them. Certainly not a nice place to live. In a way, he felt sorry for the Somalis. He pitied them for the malnourished, aggressive caricatures of men they were, with every little spark of hope for progress immediately doused by their religion, even dumber than the other ones. It was a tool for controlling masses that had no place in modern society. That was religion in his eyes. A cancerous tumor that was supposed to be cut out a long ago. Oakley moved to clear one of the rooms and he slowly continued down the hallway, his eyes scanning every inch and every door.

"Oakley, Svoboda, continue sweeping the ground floor, don't expose yourself to the eastern flank or you'll get cut apart. There's at least two dozen hostiles on that road at varying lengths, it doesn't look fun!", the Dane’s voice crackled through the radio, combined with multiple shots behind him, startling him and Jarek automatically checked the compass on his watch. Then, his curiosity overpowered his self-preservation instinct and he poke out a window facing east. What he saw made him jump away from the window as he uttered several curses of various origin and caliber. Pity aside, that couldn’t be tolerated.

Oakley got out of the room and he fell behind her, looking over his shoulder every now and then. Rear guard was far away from his favorite role. They moved up to the first floor and were greeted by a pile of explosives. Destroying that should present the Somalis with some problems for a month or two, before they get their filthy hands on more. He couldn’t help but wonder where did they get so much and what kind of mess would it create if things went wrong in the worst way imaginable? Would it erase a block, two, or four? Explosives weren’t anywhere close to his field. Than he realized the team’s two EODs were Russian, thought about the Aral Sea, K-141 and the CNPP and hoped these two were not that kind of Russians.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Had to study this week, I'm working on a post now.

Endymion: Symphony of Echoes [Sci-FI Squad based Horror-ish w/ Exploration elements] (Always Accepting)

In case of a headcount, still here, waiting patiently.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Jarek was thankful for the armored hull of the grotesque vehicle that protected them as they moved through the sorry ruin that was once a city. The woefully worn out road reminded him of Czech Republic and his mind drifted back into the days of AČR when he was hunched up inside the Pandur II, knowing full well what a barely amphibious abomination it was, emphasis on the MRAP that amplified the force of the blast. He slid a fresh magazine into his rifle and pressed the thumb release. The rifle produced a reassuring click. Jarek flipped the magnifier off and checked his sight. The 416 was also an improvement over the 601st usual M4A1 or, god forbid, the CZ 805. All in all, their current situation was a lot better. His name being said out loud interrupted his train of thoughts. Out and across the road, simple enough. Get to hard cover. He did not need to be told that. The .50 started its monotone chant of pain and anguish, muffled by the vehicle until Nikolaj opened the door.

Jarek followed Oakley out of the vehicle, briefly looked around himself and dashed across the street, straight for the nearest piece of valid cover. He ducked beside a piece of low wall, switched his rifle to semi and took a more thorough look at their surroundings. A dark figure wearing a light shirt and shorts, the unmistakable shape of a rifle in his hands, moved in the corner of his view. He squeezed the trigger twice, one in the chest, one in the shoulder. “I’m off.” he thought and shifted his grip on the weapon. Another one poke out of his hole. Two more rounds, and another skinny bit the bullet. “Better” He took no pleasure in killing, but didn’t shed any tears about the Somalis either.

"Technical, nine o'clock! Lay it out!"

Jarek looked over his shoulder to see where the thing actually was and moved to his left to maximize cover between him and the vehicle. Someone else would have to deal with it, this was out of his league. He turned back to the surrounding area, his attention now divided between the technical and the regular skinnies. A black head popped up over something that used to be a wall. Jarek quickly aimed, but the target hid again before either of them could fire. His 416 spat out two rounds just for good measure and then moved to other targets.

A bang indicated the technical’s demise. Jarek looked over his shoulder one more time to confirm it and was greeted with the sight of a bullet-filled, now abandoned vehicle. With this issue dealt with, Jarek formed up for entry and followed the team. Crowstep stopped just behind the first door. “Alright, door left. Check it.” Jarek tilted the weapon to the right and checked his ammo through the window on the side of the PMAG and drew a breath. “Ready.”

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Name: Jaroslav Svoboda

Nationality: Czech

Origin: 601. skss

Gender: Male

Age: 36

Appearance:

appearance

Jarek prefers various Multicam permutations for desert and woodland environments and M05 for winter. He stands 186 cm tall with average build.

Rank: Sergeant

Role: Ammo bearer

Preffered Loadout:

Loadout1

Heckler&Koch HK 416

• PMAG (30 rounds)
• MBUS
• Magpul AFG-2
• Magpul STR stock
• Surefire M600 Ultra Scout Light
• Surefire SFMB-556-1/2-28 muzzle brake
• Surefire SOCOM556-RC suppressor (stealth operations only)
• EXPS3-4 sight with G33.STS Magnifier

Glock 17 Gen. 4

• Surefire X400® Ultra light
• Surefire SF RYDER 9Ti suppressor (stealth operations only)

Brief Background: Jarek grew up in Blansko, in south Moravia. Early on, he discovered languages, and they absolutely fascinated him - he took his first english lessons at the age of 6, he started learning german when he was 13, although lack of practice made his german a little rusty. He attended the University of Defense in Brno and joined the Army of Czech Republic in 2005.
A few months in his career, he and his squad were on a patrol, during which they stopped near a local school. While the squad leader was talking to the staff, the six remaining men, including Jarek and their interpreter, provided security and kept the class company while their teacher wasn’t available. One of the kids had a cut on his hand and Jarek, seeing an opportunity to minimize his time with the noisy eight year olds, went back to their vehicle with their team’s medic to get the first aid kit. When they found what they were looking for, they heard the dreaded muslim cry and were knocked off their feet by an explosion as one of the kids detonated a small bomb he was carrying, killing himself, eight other children, the interpreter and the rest of the squad, including the leader who returned shortly before the explosion, leaving only Jarek and their medic alive, further deepening his hatred for religion. Since that time, he had extreme trust issues towards anyone who looked like an Arab, though he managed to suppress them over the years.
In early 2008, He joined the 601st skss and participated in operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan (2008-2009), protecting the Czech embassy in Kabul (2010-2011) and later returned to Afghanistan.

Equipment: Large backpack with spare ammo, some medical supplies, grenades, various batteries and whatever he or someone else thinks they might need.
He wears a blood type patch on his chest carrier and left shoulder. He wears a czech flag in olive color on his right shoulder.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP) Interest Check

Still have room? This is something I've been looking for the entire time.

Endymion: Symphony of Echoes [Sci-FI Squad based Horror-ish w/ Exploration elements] (Always Accepting)

Thema muttered something about engineering duties and returned to her squad, looking toward the darkened hall every now and then, feeling slightly safer that way. The eyes glowing in the dark were unnerving, but they gave her an idea. She rummaged through multiple boxes until she fished out a pack of weapon lights. She took one and switched it to rapid flashing. Narix eyes also glowed slightly in the dark, but were sensitive to bright light. If her theory was correct, this could be the case of those space zombies, or whatever they were.

Zafir returned to the briefing room, not knowing what to think of what happened in the past few minutes. Truth be told, he had a hard time believing the Deminutians, barely larger than his hand, would be of any use here, but their commander, however small, was making some valid points. With the TN-201 volunteering to take power and life support and the Deminutians looking around for ways not to meet the new inhabitants, all the basic needs except patching up the station’s hull were being taken care of. Zafir turned to the crimson-armored GalSen soldier.

“We could head down to the sick bay and see if we can find any clues of what happened, maybe even something about the gas that was leaking in the cathedral, provided it is accessible at the moment. Unless you have something else in mind, in that case, I’m all ears.” A loud shot rang through the hangar. “But whatever we do, we should do it before our neighbors decide to come in greater numbers.”